


Demyelinated Pathways

by faithinthepoor



Series: Desperate Housewives [38]
Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during A Wedding in the Country</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demyelinated Pathways

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [Unseemly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/668467), [The Theory of Everything](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor), [Here There Be Dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673221), [Somnambulist](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673229), [Wishin’ and Hopin’](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673233), [Nosology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673238), [Boundary Violations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673240), [Fractals](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673250), [Windmill Tilting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673255), [Ambitendency](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673262), [Heisenberg Territory](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673272), [The Illusions of Prisms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/673700), [Keratitis Sicca](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682311), [Schrödinger’s Realm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682327), [Chiaroscuro](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682358), [Altered Trajectories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/682370), [Elegiacs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1952136), [Tachyphylaxis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1952244), [Verismo](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953516), [Forced Perspective](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953594), [Lex Talionis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953624), [Repetition Compulsion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953663), [Cardioid Geometry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1953693), [Mereology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1959777), [Battlelines](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960131), [Enteropathy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960167), [Abnegation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960179), [Lichtenberg Figures](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960806), [Paradoxes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1960851), [Plastic Deformation](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963329), [Hawthorne and Rosenthal Dilemmas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963419), [Egodystonic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/196345), [Regional Anaesthesia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963512), [Antinomy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963539), [Theophobia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963584), [Epistemology](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963686) and [Twilight Hours](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1963728)

The sound issuing from the decaying speaker system is nothing more than a series of hisses and crackles, music distorted into a parody of Morse Code. Any chance of recognising the song is further hindered by the cacophony of clattering pans and sizzling fat emanating from the kitchen. The assault to the ears is probably the least threatening aspect of the place – there are odours here that should not be produced in the vicinity of where food is being served, the staff and partons are challenged by anything beyond monosyllables, the vinyl stool-tops stick to skin in the areas where the upholstery has disintegrated and the counter looks as though it could do a reasonable job of frying the food itself if the right amount of heat were applied. It is not a place that is going to feature in any sort of gourmet guide and yet it feels like a haven to her, it is certainly significantly more pleasant than the last few hours have been. In comparison to the car this place is positively flush with ambience and even though most of the clientele look as though their only significant relationships are with their parole officer and their drug of choice, they all seem preferable to the company that she has been keeping.

She studies the menu trying to find the item that contains the least amount of animal fat and cautiously sips on the coffee that was likely brewed when Jesus was a boy. It seems that there is nothing available that shouldn’t come with a triple bypass as its side serve and she is about to throw caution and likely her digestive system to the wind and place an order when she is interrupted by the activation of her cellphone. She struggles to remove it from the back pocket of her jeans as it continues to dance and sing, determined to ensure that its presence is acknowledged. In the end she answers just in time to prevent it diverting to voice mail but her difficulty in achieving her task has not gone unnoticed and more than one pair of disapproving eyes is cast in her direction.

“What do you want?” due to her antics she failed to check the ID of the caller but she has no doubt that Nora is either having second thoughts about getting into a truck with a stranger who could be a serial killer or is calling to tell her how spectacular the sex is with the new love of her life.

“You to display a somewhat more appropriate phone manner would be a start.”

“Bree?”

“Who were you expecting?”

“Someone else.”

“I gathered that.”

“Why are you calling, aren’t you busy enjoying your honeymoon and why are your ringing me, you knew I was going to the spa this weekend.”

“I know you, I knew you’d take your phone, sometimes I think the concept of relaxation is lost on you.”

“I have four children, five if you count Tom, I forgot how to relax a long, long time ago. At least I only take my phone so that I will have something to do if I get bored, you’d take yours to the spa in case there was some sort of emergency.”

“It pays to be prepared.”

“No it doesn’t, if I hadn’t have been prepared I would still be at the spa.”

“You left?”

“Mmmhmmm”

“The place comes highly recommended, it has a waiting list, what could have possibly found not to like about it?”

“Other than the fact that it has a waiting list and is therefore frequented by people who are impressed by things like waiting lists you mean?”

“Yes, other than that?”

“I didn’t get a chance to judge, I was lying on a massage table preparing to let someone’s fingers turn me into a boneless puddle,” she notes that in response to this Bree lets out a small gasp and tries not to think that it means anything, “when Tom called, he’s stubbed his toe or got a hangnail or something and now I am driving to the middle of nowhere because my husband can’t be left alone with the children for more than a few hours.”

“I’m sure that he had a good reason to call you.”

“He says he’s thrown his back out.”

“You think he’s lying?”

“I think he did it on purpose.”

“You can’t really think that.”

“There’s many a time I thought about stabbing myself in the eye to get away from the kids, I’m just annoyed that he seems to be more successful at it than I am.”

“Where are you now?”

“About a few miles west of hell.”

“I see. How soon will you be home?”

“Maybe never I’ll probably need to go on the run after I kill Tom for ruining my weekend.”

“So no time soon.”

“Not for hours.”

“I see,” there is a sense of disappointment behind Bree’s words.

“Why do you care you’re off enjoying your second of many honeymoons.”

“We didn’t go.”

Again she tries not to feel anything, “Trouble in paradise already?”

“I imagine that Orson isn’t impressed but that’s not the reason that I didn’t go,” Bree seems to be skirting the issue and Lynette doesn’t have the patience to deal with her evasiveness right now.

“Bree I’m tired and angry and have a long drive ahead of me so either tell me what you called to tell me or I am gonna hang up.”

“I couldn’t go…” she trails off.

“You were warned, this is me hanging up.”

“Wait,” Bree sounds distressed, “I got to the airport, we were waiting for the flight and there was some sort of programme on TV about the plight of the disenfranchised and this particularly unhelpful reporter was talking to Andrew.”

“Are you ok?”

“I don’t think so,” Bree replies softly.

She has trouble distinguishing Bree’s words over the background dim so she places some money on the counter for the substance that is being sold as coffee and makes her way outside, “Hang on, I need to go somewhere quieter so that I can hear you.” She makes her way to the car and by the time she arrives she can hear Bree sobbing. “Do you want to talk about it?” as she says the words she feels foolish, obviously Bree wants to talk, she wouldn’t have called otherwise.

“I just needed to talk to someone who knew the truth.”

“Orson thinks Andrew ran away?”

“I have told him about my less than perfect parenting, he doesn’t seem to be taking it very well. I don’t think this is the kind of conversation that I can have with him.”

“So it falls to me?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I am running to you because Orson has failed to meet my needs.”

“Why not, it’s the truth.”

“No it’s not.”

“So exactly how would you describe the situation, Bree?”

“I don’t know, less callously than you though.”

“My being callous doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Please don’t do this, I need you, I need you to be supportive right now.”

“And what, I am supposed to be falling over myself with gratitude?”

“No, you are supposed to be my friend.” Lynette’s only response is a burst of bitter laughter. “You don’t think we’re friends anymore?”

“If that bridge isn’t burnt it is certainly on fire and too hot to go near right now.”

“Can’t we forgot about that, can’t we pretend that things are ok?”

“I don’t see why we should.”

“Because I went looking for him and asked him to come back home and he wants nothing to do with me. He’d rather sleep under newspapers and eat out of garbage cans than have anything to do with me.”

“If you are looking for someone to reaffirm your faith in yourself as a human being I’m not sure that I’m the best person for the job.”

“Because you’re angry with me?”

“And because I’m not a good person, it’s possible that I just encouraged someone to commit suicide.”

Bree’s tone lightens, “Forgive me but I would have thought that it’s not the first time that you’d have done that.”

She feels her own mood lift a little, “It probably isn’t, and they probably deserved it, it’s just the first time anyone has had such an adverse reaction.”

“So Darwin am I allowed to ask who you think the world would be better off without?”

“You mean who other than you?”

“I thought that went without saying.”

“Nora,” she confesses.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but I wouldn’t have that you’d be bothered by her being upset.”

“I know, me neither, I’m quite worried about myself.”

“I take it she responded rather dramatically.”

“Like the crazy little crack whore that she is. She demanded to get out of the car and went off in the truck of someone who will either strangle her or be her next drug dealing pimp of a boyfriend.”

“You think those two outcomes are mutually exclusive?”

“I guess not,” she is a little more bemused by the concept than she should be.

“So what are you upset about, that it’s possible that the guy won’t actually kill her?”

“I’d settle for her being used and abused so long as it got her out of my hair for a while.”

“You really hate her don’t you?”

“I really hate a lot of people.”

“Yes you do,” Bree’s tone is indulgent, “but I’m thinking you hate her a little more than most.”

“I hate her so much it almost makes me forget how much I hate you.”

There is a lengthy pause in the conversation and she waits for the sound of the dial tone but it never comes, “I can’t decide if that should make me angry or not.”

“That I can hate someone more than you?”

“Mmmmm.”

“So you want all my intense feelings be they good or bad to be about you?”

“A little.”

“If it would help I can try and think up some new reasons that I should hate you, see if I can tip the scale.”

“Not exactly my preferred response.”

“I’m only tying to take your feelings into account.”

“And I appreciate it. This is kind of nice.”

“What?”

“Talking like we could be friends.”

“That’s not what we are doing.”

“I’ve made you mad.”

“I’m fine but I’m going to go now.”

“I didn’t get talk about Andrew.”

“I think that’s for the best, it’s not my job to make you feel better.”

“And yet I have the sneaky suspicion that you feel at least a little better after talking to me.”

“Goodbye Bree,” she hangs up the phone and really wishes that Bree wasn’t right because she does indeed feel better. Everything seems a little easier to face and nothing seems quite as annoying – not having to go and rescue Tom, not having to select food from a grease trap, not finding Nora on the side of the road – nothing. She doesn’t know what to do about the fact that a conversation with Bree can help her because it doesn’t change the reality that Bree is also the source of infinite sadness. She knows it’s not a crime to want to feel ok and that she really needs to find a less complicated way of doing that but she’s just not sure that she can.


End file.
